


There's Something For You Here

by PanDisasterMan



Category: HLVRAI - Fandom, Half-Life, Half-Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: Act 2, Angst, Bubby is a good friend, Coomer isn't doing too hot, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, He isnt gonna be mean to Coomer, How does Bubby know grounding/breathing techniques?, I wrote this instead of sleeping bc insomnia a little shit, Little bit of ooc Bubby, M/M, Not really Shippy per say, Sorry for the random switch in writing format in the middle, TW: graphic anxiety attack, There's Nothing Out There, They know their reality is not Reality, Wikihow.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26356042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PanDisasterMan/pseuds/PanDisasterMan
Summary: There’s nothing there.Moments ago, there was the night sky. There was Black Mesa. There were his friends.Then there was the nothing.Dr. Coomer has an anxiety attack, peaks through the veil, and spirals further. Bubby does what he can to calm his dearest friend down. Everything is not alright, but things are better for now.
Relationships: Bubby/Dr. Coomer (Half-Life)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 52





	There's Something For You Here

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! First and foremost, Coomer has a Really bad anxiety attack during this Whole thing basically. Be safe. If you think this might trigger you please bail or read with caution. Remember, you as the reader are free to jump out of a fic that makes you uncomfortable. I hope that yall are take care of yourself.
> 
> Been lovingly tending to this for a while. Personally think that there is a plethora of Angst potential for all the characters in HLVRAI and it should be explored.

There’s Nothing there.

Moments ago, there was the night sky. There was Black Mesa. There were his friends.

Then there was the Nothing.

It was easier to ignore while in the heat of battle and banter, but now all was still. The silence was deafening, only acting as a reminder of the void that lurked out of bounds.

The moment Gordon fell asleep, the unnaturally bright room dimmed. Coomer shifted as quietly as he could to sit against the wall, hugging himself harshly. He’d felt pain before. He knows bruised knuckles from the boxing ring, the sharp ache in his skull each time a gun or grenade fired off, the agony of radioactive waste. But this: this was a newer development. This was needle-like pain, minuscule really, but the ceaseless ripping and reforming of his atoms was true agony.

He dug his fingers tightened on his arms, causing the modified bioengineered matter to creak and dent.

Did he really know anything? Was there ever anything? Is this real? Are his memories real? Did he ever have a wife, or is that Something he just always believed? Were his memories of the boxing ring based on reality or some prewritten setting?

Coomer couldn’t breathe. The doctor’s breaths came in shallow, useless puffs. His chest felt tight, and oxygen wasn’t processed properly, air leaving too fast for anything to get done.

Darkness and static invaded his vision as he spiraled. In his haze, he peered into Something More. He saw textures, lines of code, binary. Coomer squinted and looked harder, eyes focusing on a darkened bedroom that looked detailed and real.

He shivered and squeezed his eyes shut harshly. He pressed himself harder into the wall, fingernails digging into his arms harder and harder, trying to scrub the image and the pain from his mind.

Are they even alive? Does anything matter? Is their fight for survival all for naught? Are they alive for the sole entertainment of the being in that room?

Coomer bit his tongue to hide a sob, but couldn’t smother the panicked whimper that slipped through in it’s place.

“Dr. Coomer?”

Bubby says softly. Coomer only curled tighter, a choked cry escaping his crushed form.

The sound of soft shuffling and the movement of fabric fall onto deaf ears as the lankier of the two inches closer. Opening his eyes, Coomer sees Black Mesa walls and floors, as well as skinny legs through the static tunnel vision.

Bubby scowled, not in anger or frustration, but in concern.

He’d honestly thought that Coomer’s comment earlier was just an exaggeration, simply despairing on the fact that Black Mesa was in the middle of mountain and desert and plains for miles and miles. Bubby was wrong. He’d seen it for himself on the rocket, and just recently, when he last spoke to Gordon.

Bubby had noticed the darkening of the room as well, the muted colors of equipment and metal blurring together like a bad picture.

Dr.Coomer was right. Something was amiss, and they’re world isn’t nearly as grounded as he’d once believed. Somewhere lurking in the upper boundaries of the troposphere, it was there.

Or not quite. Absolute nothingness can’t exactly ‘be anywhere’.

Bubby had his concerns, mainly pondering What the Fuck that was about, but he wasn’t too pressed. That nothingness didn’t do it for him. It was vast and open. Dark, with the pull of gravity dragging him back to the Something they resided in. It wasn’t too bad for Bubby. It wasn’t a tube.

The void held little resemblance to the cramped cylindrical hell that encased him and his previous versions in glass suspended weightlessly in damnable green fluid. No, Bubby found those to be much worse than the Nothing.

The lanky doctor was concerned about what the fuck was going on and where the fuck they were in relation to reality, but he knew that he was real. It was Something he’s fought with himself ever since he’d woken up in that horrible tube. He was real. He was alive, and he didn’t care about what the fuckers in Biological Research said. Now, all he had to do is repeat that process with the revelation that their “world” was a compressed box surrounded by Nothing. He was alive. He was real. He’d take no shit from anyone or anything saying otherwise.

He knew this to be true, but looking at his friend told him that this thought was not shared. In fact, the man seemed to be in terrible, excruciating pain.  
Now, Bubby knew he didn’t have the firmest grasp on etiquette or proper human reactions. He was created, dissected, mistreated, and has rarely been treated “like a human” before… until him. Bubby’s shouty, he’s fighty and all-around sharp and abrasive, but he still cared. He Cared about his team, and he cared about Coomer even more so.

Coomer was an anomaly in the midst of the facility’s horridness, scientific detachment, and blatant disgust. Coomer brought with him kindness, humor, happiness, and love. Black Mesa may have created Bubby, but Coomer introduced him to Living. So seeing the man curled up in a corner, trapped in his own mind and drowning in existential despair, it made him feel bad. And he wanted that shit to stop right now.

Bubby sneered in a useless attempt to scare the horrible thoughts from his friend’s mind: to protect him from overthinking and breaking. When the other man just continued to stare listlessly Bubby quietly sat down in front of Coomer.

Bubby couldn’t be certain, but he guessed that Coomer was probably hurting himself, the sound of metallic creaking causing worry and dread to rise in his chest. So, he tugged off his lab coat and balled in his hands.

“Harold.” he hissed in a sort of whisper shout.

The doctor blinked and looked around unseeing until Bubby wiggled his balled up lab coat. Coomer’s eyes followed the small movements of the cloth, focused, and still riddled with panic.

“Can you hear me?”

A nod.

“Good. I’m going to move my coat up and down. I want you to breathe in when it goes up and exhale when it goes down. Make sure to follow it, don’t rush it, or I’ll burn… Something.”

The threat fell flat on it’s ass, but another dazed nod remedied that.

Bubby slowly raised his arm. Up: 1. 2. 3. 4. Hold it there for 4. Down: 1. 2. 3. 4. Hold for 4 and start again.

The glassy look slowly receded from Coomer’s eyes. He took deep breaths, thankful for the oxygen finally being processed, and sobbed quietly.

“This isn’t real—only a simulation created to provide entertainment. There’s Nothing out there after that barrier. We’re alone. Was there ever a world past this box? Does anything matter when existence outside this facility is void and null? What’s even the point of fighting anymore? We’ll just respawn again and again until whoever is pulling the strings gets bored and deletes this world.”

Coomer curled in tight again, threatening to slip back under. Bubby shook off his shock and scowled as despair crushed the other.

“Harold, look at me.” Bubby held out his coat and waited until the other man locked eyes with him before continuing.

“Hold this for me.” The skinnier of the two waited and held eye contact.

Coomer pulled a confused face and held the garment with both hands. Idly squeezing and pulling at the material.

Bubby waited and watched as the scientist stimmed on the material. Once his breathing had settled down, and his shoulders untensed, Bubby spoke up again.

“I saw it too.”

Coomer’s eyes flicked from the coat to Bubby sharply.

“On the rocket. I saw it. The Nothing. The “Box” as you call it.”

Bubby pauses a moment before continuing, keeping an eye on the doctor’s tells, should the man go under again.

“Tell me something, Harold. What are you holding in your hand?”

“A coat?” Coomer blinks at Bubby confused, stimming movements slower yet continuous.

B “What room are you in right now?”

C “The rocket room?”

B “Who is currently in this room?”

C “Well, there’s you, Tommy, Gordon, Benrey, and… and myself.”

B “And what did we do today?”

C “Pardon?”

B “What did we do today?”

C “We fought the entirety of the United States Military and killed alien bug creatures??”

B “We did. Do you know the one part you forgot to mention?”

Silence.

B “We survived.”

Bubby continues on.

“If we survived, then that means that there are circumstances that currently put us in danger. The hazards and threats we faced today were real. We all felt pain and fear and relief. Who gives a shit if there’s Nothing outside this compound. What we’ve done still matters. The lives we live and the memories we hold are tangible and real. The consequences this hellhole has on us will affect us long after the danger has passed. The fact that any of this is happening means that there is life within these boundaries, and we are Alive.”

Coomer gazed at the man with wide eyes. Bubby takes pride and relief in how his friend’s eyes slowly regain their life as he slowly processes the depth and meaning of Bubby’s.

Then Coomer lunges forward to hug the man in an admittedly awkward angle. It felt strenuous with elbows positioned strangely and bodies twisted in less than optimal positions. And Bubby simply huffs and adjusts, so they slotted comfortably against each other.

“Who gives a flying fuck what may or may not be out there. Who cares if our world is a box surrounded by Nothing. Maybe the void doesn’t have anything for you in it, but that doesn't matter.”

Bubby clings onto the man and squeezes him close, acknowledging but not dwelling on the fact that he was afraid to lose his friend -his everything, his world- to the nothingness too.

“We have each other. Focus on the task at hand and survive. When we get out of this shit show, we’ll look into what the fuck is out there. Until then…”

Bubby pulled away slightly, just enough to look the man in the eye as he cupped his cheek.

“Remember that there’s something for you here.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please respect WayneRadioTV and crews' wishes and don't like, send this their way.  
> If they happen across it on their own then cool! But don't shove fics or smut their way please and thanks!
> 
> Hope it was a good read!


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